


your leg my leg your arm my arm

by batman



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23911234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batman/pseuds/batman
Summary: Life's hard when your only source of income is fighting your boyfriend on national television.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 97
Kudos: 828





	your leg my leg your arm my arm

**Author's Note:**

> HAIKYUU, BATMAN IS BACK.
> 
> i wrote this through a migraine thanks............i fucking love kagehina
> 
> title from _raw love_ by charles bukowski, which has been my kagehina songcall since 2014, but is so now more than ever. _your leg my leg your arm my arm your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again._

Shouyou has a scar on the sole of his left foot that both terrifies Tobio and makes him feel hot all over. It stretches all the way from the space between his big and second toe to the downward sweep of the arch that leads to his heel. It’s thin and pure white against his skin, like a stroke of light. He got it slicing himself open on a seashell four years ago.

 _Yeah_ , he’d said, the first time Tobio had seen it, at seven in the evening fresh out the shower, their hair damp and steam still rising off the back of their necks. _Things like that happen sometimes_. It’s a running joke between him and the world, as Tobio understands, a world that made it so that Shouyou’s now been touched by a hundred things that aren’t Tobio. The sun. The sand. The ocean. The shell.

☼

Against black sheets Shouyou’s red like fire. Against white he’s golden. The shock of his hair, longer now against the pillowcase, his body strong lines where it used to be twig-limbs, like the only tree in the garden his mother didn’t have chopped down despite the roots making the tiles of the floor rise uneven. Shouyou is uneven, right arm stronger than the left despite his best efforts, and the muscles of his thighs whipped so fiercely into shape that they tremble at the slightest gentle touch; the back of Tobio’s hand, or his tongue; even the slide of the sheets. 

In interviews everyone pretends they’re flatmates, and they pretend they’re flatmates because old habits die hard, or something like that, and that there is no conflict of interest apart from Tobio taking too long to pick what he wants from the fridge and making it beep frantically at six in the morning.

‘He takes too long,’ Shouyou says, all whispers and complicity with the journalist, who’s eating it all up with a cat-smile. ‘Can you imagine how stressful it is? It’s the fridge that wakes me up before my alarm!’ 

‘So Kageyama-san wakes up before you?’ 

‘Oh, two hours before me. Have you met the Jackals? Even if I was up at five I’d just have to sit outside the gym and wait for them to show up four hours later.’ 

‘And the Adlers practice early, then, Kageyama-san?’ 

‘We have to beat him at _something_ , at least,’ Tobio deadpans, which makes Shouyou snort so hard that he chokes and they just barely salvage the take. Next time, Tobio’ll come up with something better, then keep it to himself. _He looks good when he’s asleep. You wish you could see it_.

☼

Kuroo and Tadashi carry the fridge in while Kei imperiously bosses them around from his spot on the counter, bandaged ankle stiff against the handle of the kitchen drawers and silver ring glinting against the dark coffee in his glass. 

‘Now the barstools,’ Tadashi pants. ‘Kuroo-san, you can sit this one out, I’ll get them in one trip.’ 

In the bedroom, Hitoka is in as passionate an argument as she will ever get considering Shouyou can do no wrong in her eyes. Tobio has been hearing her tinny voice for five minutes now while he gets all his bathroom supplies out, and when he walks in, she’s still going. Three pencils sticking out of the bun on top of her head, hair winking in the sunlight streaming in from the windows, cheeks red with annoyance. 

‘You’re going to call me up in a _week’s_ time screaming about how Tobio gets antsy in here,’ she’s saying in her _I can’t believe I have to be assertive and use buzzwords for the third time this week_ voice. ‘But sure, paint that wall purple, why don’t you close off the balcony and make a cave while you’re at it? And—’

‘Hitoka,’ Tadashi calls out from the hallway. It’s sweet but enough. She backs down.

‘At least consider lilac,’ she says, and Shouyou finally drops the puppy eyes and agrees. 

When he makes his way into the kitchen, Kei throws a hand up in his direction, then makes an effort to detach himself from his fiancé’s lips. Tobio blinks at them, Kuroo blinking at Kei with just as much curiosity. 

‘No, don’t plug it in, you moron,’ Kei says. ‘You need to give it eight hours to settle first.’ 

‘How the hell did you know I was going to plug it in?’ 

‘Tobio, please. Give me some fucking credit.’

Kuroo bursts into laughter.

☼

On the lilac wall are two posters, the first ever one that Hitoka designed, and then one of Tobio at the Olympics. Hanging bookshelves lined with manga, sheer curtains, and the only bed in the showroom large enough to accommodate Tobio’s legs. The first time Tobio throws Shouyou on it after having carried him, tree-thighs around his waist and arms around his neck, the sheets are white and he’s gold. Tobio has to take a moment of just staring down at him, Shouyou staring back with those wide brown eyes, until he hooks a foot on the inside of Tobio’s knees and tugs, making him fall forward with a yelp. His nose against Shouyou’s collarbone, unstoppable-immovable, hands on his ribs. 

‘Stare later,’ he says. ‘Important business first. Super urgent.’

‘Shut up, you little brat. I could’ve died.’ 

‘ _To-bi-o. Ur-gent_.’

At some point, Tobio realises, they’ll have to make some kind of announcement. It’ll take years to find the words, and still, no one on the planet will be able to understand. No one ever has. No one ever will.

☼

The matches are…everything. They can’t practice together, so every time Shouyou walks onto the court Tobio feels something horrid and fantastic climb up his spine, because none of this would be worth anything if Shouyou couldn’t keep surprising him. If they couldn’t keep surprising each other. _Surprise me_ , yes, the thing of it. Knowing every part of Shouyou but the most important, the world’s longest game of hide and seek. The world’s longest chase, across the ocean and back. 

_Once you’ve stepped into the sea without knowing your foot’s been bleeding out, you can get through anything in the world. Seriously. I don’t think I’ve ever cursed so hard in my life. Sometimes I feel like there’s still sea-salt stuffed in there_.

Six months after Tobio lets the fridge sit for eight hours, someone asks the primordial question, off the record unless they’re not afraid of lawsuits. It’s a magazine respectable enough to be afraid of lawsuits.

‘And neither of you has ever thought about changing teams?’ 

‘Well, no,’ Tobio begins, but Shouyou cuts in. 

‘We wouldn’t play like this if we were on the same side of the net,’ he says. ‘I need him before me. Always.’ 

It stays off the record, but the journalist looks at them for the longest time before smiling down at her notes. Years later, she’s the one who finds the words for them. When Shouyou reads the article, still in his tuxedo, he laughs, and then cries.

☼

Now he has been touched by a hundred things that aren’t Tobio. His dark skin a sun-souvenir, his strong arms, and the shell, first thing to slice him open after Tobio. Open for all of the ocean to rush into.

Tobio seals it shut. Kisses the clean white-cut skin, tongue following the arch of the muscle and bone while Shouyou clutches at the sheets and curses like he must have when he stepped into the sea without knowing he was bleeding out. Tobio reopens it for just a moment, and then seals it shut. 

‘Stop it,’ Shouyou gasps. ‘Oh, stop it.’ 

Tobio’s waited for longer than the ocean has existed. He isn’t going to stop now.

☼

(‘Stop it,’ Shouyou snaps. ‘Stop fighting with me off the court. I’m sick of running in circles. I’m back now, so either have me back or don’t speak to me again.’ 

Tobio stares at him, the roar of his words and the years of missing him catching up like a god-wave. Shouyou’s bright angry eyes, his beautiful form, ready to attack. 

‘Shouyou, come here,’ Tobio says blankly. He’s been in love for longer than the ocean has existed.

‘What,’ Shouyou spits. ‘What.’ 

‘Shouyou, _come here_.’ _You freak of nature_.

‘What,’ he says again, but he’s close now, stupidly close, so close. ‘What.’)

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/tricksteller).


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